Synchrony
by Sini
Summary: Banter makes life more fun, at least for them. A series of somewhat related shorts with moments that include Bruce and Chloe. Friendship/UST.
1. Indulge Me

So… sorry all. _Detective Fiction_ is still on the backburner. I was writing the actual story that follows the three published chapters, but then I got ill and then uni started back up again and my writing mojo's been fairly absent since. Thank you very much for all the feedback, you make me very happy :)

Instead, I offer you some snippets I thought of including in the forementioned fic (now slightly altered), but that never made it in and other scribblings from the same fandom. This is for all of you lovely people that sent me reviews and PMs asking for Chloe/Bruce shippiness. These are basically one-shots that all take place in the same universe. Apologies for any goofs.

* * *

**Indulge Me**

She noticed him as soon as he walked in through the _Gazette_ doors. Then again, so did pretty much everyone. She had no idea what he was doing there, but staying informed on his comings and goings was not very high on her to-do list. As he disappeared from view and the room returned to its previous, less tense state, Chloe was already on her way to the nearest pot of coffee.

Walking past her desk, hands stuffed in his pockets, looking casual as ever, Bruce noted the 'get well' –cards next to the computer screen. One had the words 'Welcome back' draped across it in large glittering letters and there was a vase of tulips ranging from bright yellow to dark red behind the cards. They were beginning to wilt, but would probably last for one more day.

"Mister Wayne, care to tell me why you're looming over my workspace?" asked a calm voice from behind him. "I doubt it merits such scrutiny – I'm sure there are similar desks on offer at Pottery Barn."

Bruce smirked as Chloe sipped her steaming cup of coffee. "Miss Sullivan. I was here so I thought it only appropriate to see how you were. I heard you got into some trouble that landed you in the hospital."

Chloe wanted to roll her eyes at his use of language, but instead plastered on a smirk of her own, trying to keep the sarcasm at bay a little. "Appropriate? My, you must be bored."

"Or well-mannered," he said, casting an eye on the chair behind him. "Mind if I sit?" To his credit Bruce did wait for her to nod before laying his coat on the arm rest and sitting down and leaning back casually. "I'm also curious. What were you doing that resulted in that and what I'm assuming are other less visible injuries?" he asked, eyeing the cast on Chloe's left arm. "And more importantly, why?"

She unconsciously adjusted the sling on her shoulder as she too sat down. "Why do you ask? We're barely even acquaintances and I don't think you go around collecting dull stories for an anthology on minor injuries."

Bruce leaned forward until he could rest his arms on his legs. "Indulge me."

Chloe raised an eyebrow and mirrored his posture, allowing more of her weight to shift on her free hand resting on the table. "I think there are enough people doing that already, don't you think?"

He almost smiled, but kept the smirk firmly in place. "Then what's one more?"

"One you have no need for."

Bruce decided to change tactics figuring the exchange would not lead anywhere otherwise no matter how much fun it was. At least not where he wanted it to go. "I heard you got some help from Batman," he said while casting a cursory glance to somewhere on his right.

As the words left his lips Chloe began to look irate. "While believe he is good for Gotham, I was fine on my own and didn't need his help nor did he really do so." She reached for the forgotten coffee mug and clutched it in her hand. "Unless you call growling orders on innocent reporters help," she huffed. "I mean really, what's a broken arm and a few bruises when you have the story of the month in your hands?"

She had been hiding behind a bunch of trashcans and bags while Jeremy Hanson, the policy director of the Mayor, approached Richard Addison. Addison had found out about the plan to alter voting results so that the current Mayor would stay in office for another term. She had been following them for a good hour while they tailed Addison. In the end she had listened in on the entire conversation from her hiding spot, if one could call the threats and forced hush-money that. Everything had been going stellar until she'd snapped the money shot. She never did figure out why Hanson himself was there to offer the money, otherwise the picture would have been worth peanuts. Anyway, as the shutter clicked she was made and rushed to get away. Hanson had yelled for the men to get her and Addison got a chance to escape. She had been halfway down the alley with the camera showed down her bag when the more long-legged aggressor had tackled her and they had landed on the ground with a cry of pain. She had managed to punch him smack-dab on the nose – she still had the litle droplets of blood on her jacket – but the fall and subsequent struggle had broken her arm and she had bit her lip to keep from crying out again. The other perb had run after Addison and with a swift kick at the attacker she had been about to make her escape as she had scrambled up while supporting her arm securely against her chest when Batman had made his entrance. He had dragged the goon up off the ground and muttered something unintelligible and that was when she had noticed the second goon hanging off a fire escape by his jacket.

"_Go write your story," he __ordered._

"_Have you smoked a pack a day since you were five or has your voice always been like that?" she asked while wincing and wanting desperately to dust the bits of dirt off her clothes. She _

"_You shouldn't be here."_

"_No one should be here and yet there were six of us not a minute ago." Batman glared at her and Chloe arched an eyebrow in return. "And we're all _quite _annoyed, aren't we boys?" she said, her voice pained, but not without spirit._

_The thug still in Batman's grip held his nose while the other one struggled trying to get free from the makeshift human coat rack. Neither Addison nor Hanson was nowhere to be seen, but that wouldn't matter once the article got published._

"_Am I still bleeding?" the former asked and Batman tightened his grip on the front of his shirt and rattled him to shut him up._

"_Can you get to the hospital?"_

"_Yes, it's only a couple of blocks away." She wanted to be more annoyed, but he had helped. It would have been immature to say otherwise, but she maintained that she would have been fine on her own – this wasn't her first time ._

"_Then go."_

_Chloe rolled her eyes. "You know, for Gotham's protector you're very rude." He nodded towards the street that would take her to the hospital. "Fine, but don't think you saved me – he's gonna have a hell of a shiner come morning." _

"Yes, I read it. You heard the exchange and got it on tape along with a picture. Addison refused the money, didn't he? Not bad for someone who arrived here less than four months ago." The last sentence was directed straight at Chloe.

"Like I told you before: The stories are there, it's just a matter of sticking your nose where they think it doesn't belong to find out about them."

"And that would be when the accidents happen?"

Chloe squinted at Bruce. She knew he was baiting her and boy did she want to take the bait and say just what was on her mind but thought better of it and adopted a *** look instead. "No pain, no gain?" she offered.

Bruce chuckled and began to rise and grabbed his coat. "Ah, _'For every pleasure you enjoy, you must suffer some pain_' – Do you really subscribe to that?"

"Seems about right to me," said Chloe. "How about you?"

"'_They say hard work never hurt anybody, but I figure why take the chance_.'"

Chloe bit her lip at the serious way he delivered the quote. "Really? For some reason I don't believe you truly side with that… Nor did I peg you for a reaganite."

Bruce stopped to look at her for a moment, only one arm fully in the sleeve. A second passed before he pulled the coat on all the way and shoved his hands in the pockets. There was something about the things she said and the way she said them that intrigued him, attracted him to her.

"Well, it's been nice talking to you Miss Sullivan," he said, a slight smile gracing his features, "but I'll leave you to your… reporting."

"Likewise Mister Wayne," she replied, stopping for a moment as Bruce turned his back to leave. "Just one question: Why are you here?"

"Like I said, I was curious," he answered over his shoulder.

"I meant why are you here at the _Gazette_?" she asked again, but only got a cryptic smile in return.

"I could ask you the same thing. Why are _you_ here?"

It was Chloe's turn to smirk. She still didn't understand why he was interested in the story she had written a while ago, nor his real reason for hanging around her desk on a Wednesday afternoon, but she would find out sooner or later – just not today. "You first."

They held each other's gaze for a moment, but soon realised neither was going to elaborate any further, yet knowing the discussion would continue another time should the opportunity present itself.

"Goodbye Mister Wayne," Chloe said as she got ready to resume work and Bruce turned to leave once again.

"Goodbye Miss Sullivan."


	2. Fascination

To celebrate the fact that I finished the first draft of my BA thesis yesterday, I wrote a new one-shot... and then realised it was very 'Detective Fiction' -universe and wrote this one tonight instead. Not sure what the purpose of this one is, just a couple of scenes that sounded like they would fit in at this point. I realised that while I love the banter when Bruce and Chloe are not really friends, I'd try it a different route this time and boy did this end up in a very different place from what I imagined. Don't really know what to make of it, so you decide. I apologize for any discrepancies or other errors. Other than that, I hope you like it!

* * *

**Fascination**

Bruce stood in the crowd while the man up front spoke, artists gathered behind him. The event was for charity - artists from around Gotham had donated their works for auction, the profits going to various charities. Bruce was there as per request of Lucius. His granddaughter was one of the aforementioned artists and Lucius had invited him along. He was actually enjoying most of the art and was looking forward to taking a tour of the gallery that had been set up. Lucius was beside him and his smile grew when Tessa was mentioned by the host. The modest gallery was situated not too far from Wayne Tower, its large windows offering passers-by a glimpse of the paintings. They had congregated in the large foyer that led into several other display rooms and Lucius had already pointed out where Tessa's painting was hanged.

As he surveyed the room, his eyes landed on one Chloe Sullivan who was making her way to the crowd behind him and Lucius, face flushed from hurrying to make it in time. She gave a young woman, an artist, and mouthed 'Sorry' with an apologetic look. The woman at the front smiled and waved it off. Arranging her windblown hair, she stilled and began admiring a painting on her left.

"...but that's enough from me. I want to thank you all the talents who have taken part, but don't just take my word for it - have a look for yourself! But before that, let's give them a round of applause!" the host finished and clapping filled the air for a moment. "Do remember that cocktails are available and the auction begins in thirty minutes," he concluded as the crowd began to scatter.

Bruce saw Chloe meet the woman she had waved to mere minutes before. They laughed at something, presumably her late arrival, and began moving further into the gallery. Lucius motioned for Bruce to follow and they headed for Tessa and her painting.

"So what kept you?" Josie asked as she and Chloe gravitated towards a cocktail waitress.

"Oh, you know, gotta chase that story."

"I bet you do," she said, laughing. Chloe accepted the drink Josie handed her and the two were left sipping them as they looked the people surrounding them.

"Seems like this'll be a success," said Chloe.

"I know! I just hope someone'll buy my–"

Chloe interrupted her before she could finish. "It'll sell like that," she said, snapping her fingers for good measure.

Josie smiled shyly. "Thanks."

"Speaking of which," said Chloe. "Where is this work of art?"

Josie nodded towards the room next door. "I'll be your personal guide," she said, taking Chloe's arm.

As they stood before the colourful painting that was displayed on the far left of the wall, Chloe couldn't help but praise her handiwork. The colours flowed beautifully; the fantastic scene immersed her in a world far removed from reality.

"Excuse me," said a man who had been standing near them. "I take it you are the artist?" Josie nodded. "Would you be so kind as to tell me what inspired you to create such a vibrant scene?" he asked.

Josie glanced at Chloe. "Do you mind?"

Chloe smiled. "Of course not! This is your night - I'll take stroll around this place, I wanna see what else they've got here."

Chloe turned to look at the painting once more before moving to the next one. She felt the urge to smile again when she heard the animated discussion between Josie and her apparent admirer.

Bruce finished congratulating Tessa and gave Lucius his own congratulatory pat on the shoulder before departing their company. Another reason why he liked this event was that people were not there to get a glimpse of him or to corner him for business purposes. Well, one had tried that, but he had managed to escape claiming he had to meet one of the artists, which was true. Walking around, he finally found her perusing a rather dark abstract painting. For a while, he watched her from across the room. She was swirling the drink absently in her hand, but did not actually seem to be drinking it. Her dark blue blouse had similar patterns to the painting on it and from a certain angle she almost melted into it. When he finally approached her, she was bending ever so slightly to read the description under the painting.

"Miss Sullivan," he greeted.

Chloe glanced in the direction of the voice and straightened up. "Mister Wayne. Fancy meeting you here."

"I could say the same thing," Bruce replied.

They both turned their gazes to the painting before them and stood side by side in silence for a moment.

"I feel like I'm missing something," Bruce said, squinting at the work of art.

"You too, huh?" Chloe asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Abstract art was never my strong point."

"Are you admitting a there's a dent in your sophistication?" Chloe asked with a glint in her eye.

"Your expectations are awfully high, Miss Sullivan," said Bruce, turning his eyes back onto the painting whose name he discovered was 'Despair'.

"Perhaps, but tell me Mister Wayne, what brings you here? It hardly seems like your regular shindig."

"I feel I should be offended by your low opinion of me," he said with a smirk, "but since you asked... Lucius Fox asked me to come."

"He's the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, right?"

"Yep, Tessa Fox," he said, gesturing in their direction as he saw them in the distance, "is his granddaughter."

"Well, that's mighty nice of you, Mister Wayne," Chloe said in her best southern belle imitation.

This time it was Chloe Bruce squinted at, but he was wearing the tiniest of smiles. "Do you believe everything I do is in self-interest?"

Had he not said it with the smile still in place, Chloe might have felt a pang of guilt. Truthfully, she had read of Bruce's many attempts to help Gotham heal, but taking snipes at him much more fun - especially when he played along for some bizarre reason. "I haven't decided yet."

"So it's an ongoing process then?" Bruce asked, nodding. "And exactly how long until you arrive at a conclusion?"

Chloe adopted a thoughtful expression as her eyes focused on a spot somewhere high on the wall, near the ceiling. Dramatically, she sighed before saying, "I haven't planned a schedule yet. I'll see if I can fit it in somewhere, but I have to warn you – I'm a busy woman."

"I'm sure you are."

They began to slowly walk in a random direction as more people began appearing around them. "So I see your arm's back in working condition," Bruce remarked, noting that Chloe held the drink in her previously injured arm.

Chloe shrugged. "It wasn't serious. See? All better," she said, half-heartedly toasting him.

"So it seems," Bruce said, wishing he had a drink on him.

Silence descended upon them as they continued their leisurely walk, dodging the larger groups of people as they passed each other.

"Got your eye on anything in particular?" Chloe asked. Bruce gave her an intense look, which made Chloe snort. "Hardy har-har."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Chloe could not figure him out. Why was Bruce Wayne suddenly hanging out with her in a charity art auction and why was she having such a good time? Sure the world was mysterious and all, but this was stretching it. Her inner reporter was desperately hung-up on knowing why.

Meanwhile Bruce was contemplating his attraction to the woman beside him. She had the ability to be a royal pain if she so wished, but for some reason he didn't mind. Besides, so far it had only been fun and mostly innocent games aside from their initial meeting in the alley. Something about the way she stood her ground and spoke her mind stayed with him. He had already admitted to himself after their last encounter at the _Gazette_ that she fascinated him.

"As lovely as this has been," Chloe said, though not as sarcastically as she might have twenty minutes earlier, "but I should get back to Josie. The auction will start soon."

"Of course. I'll see you around Miss Sullivan," Bruce said, watching Chloe retreat.

"Likewise, Mister Wayne," Chloe called, raising her drink in the air as she disappeared from his view.

The auction began and ended in good spirits. The event raised a respectable sum and as the host of the evening bid the crowd and the auctioneer good night, Chloe gave Josie one last hug.

"Congratulations again, I told you there was nothing to worry about." The gentleman with whom Josie had talked before the auction had begun had bought her painting.

"I'll come by sometimes next week, okay?" Josie asked as Chloe began to pull on her coat.

"Sure thing. Call me, 'k?"

"I will. See ya around!" Josie called as Chloe made her way to the door.

"You bet!"

The air was crisp, but fresh and inviting after spending two hours in a space full of people. She pulled her green wool hat lower over her ears as the wind whisked her hair around. As pretty as Gotham looked, the wind really knew how to bite. She crossed to road along with a dozen other people before deciding on a detour through the park. She was planning to grab some obnoxiously tasty take-out before heading home and lounging on her sofa for the rest of the night. Her stomach felt like it was about to rumble at any moment, but the beauty of the park distracted her. There were no birds singing, but it was pretty darn perfect nevertheless. Lights had been hung between the lampposts and on selected trees. Not too long ago no one would have taken this route this late at night, not that it was very popular now. Come to think of it, most people who took the route relied on strength in numbers. The streets were safer though, and a walk through the park was a viable option these days - even when darkness was setting in. Things were far from fixed, but good enough for what many people would call a possibility for a semblance of normalcy.

"Miss Sullivan."

Chloe turned around to see Bruce not too far behind her. "Mister Wayne?" she said quizzically. How was it possible that the night was getting even stranger?

"Care for some company?" he asked, rubbing his hands together for warmth. His hair was also getting the wind treatment and Chloe almost had to smile at his less than pristine appearance that went against the grain of his usual immaculate appearance.

"And if I said no thank you?"

"I wouldn't bother you, but I am going this way so I really don't see the harm in this."

"Okay then, get those legs moving," Chloe said. "Why are you walking by the way, don't you have a driver to take you places?"

Bruce grinned. "The car broke down."

"Uh huh." Chloe eyed him dubiously, if with a hint of amusement.

"Happy with your purchase?" she asked, referring to the painting he had bid on at the auction.

"Immensely."

"Good."

They walked in companionable silence until Chloe could not resist asking him the question she had been pondering all night.

"Why are you so insistent on spending time with me?"

"Because I enjoy your company."

"But you've spent a grand total of what - twenty minutes with me?" Chloe said, "Of which 19 and a half have been spent taking jibes at each other and on poorly masked sarcasm?"

Bruce laughed at the exasperated manner in which she expressed her bafflement. "Haven't you considered that maybe that's the reason?" Bruce asked.

Chloe frowned. "My low opinion of you makes me preferable company?"

Bruce stopped walking and Chloe faced him eye to eye. "Just say the word and I'll leave you alone."

Chloe took a moment to think before she sighed. "Come on then," she said and resumed walking. Bruce caught up with her with a few long strides, not bothering to hide the grin that was making its way to his lips.

"Just so you know, my low opinion of you hasn't changed _that_ much."

"For some reason I don't find that hard to believe at all," Bruce said as the path came to an end.

Chloe fixed her with the patented Sullivan look and Bruce could see she was still trying to figure out if, or more likely what, his ulterior motive was. Then she shook her head and let out a tiniest laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, many things... Monty Python for one."

"Ah, there's that biting sense of humor."

"Just be careful or it'll bite you in the ass," Chloe said, her perplexed state just a memory.

"If–"

"Ah!" Chloe exclaimed, cutting Bruce off before he could say anything. "In your dreams, playboy. And no, you need not describe them."

Bruce laughed aloud with abandon and Chloe spared another thought for her new friend. Acquaintance? Billionaire art auction companion? Whatever the definition of their apparent relationship, she had no idea how it had come about. They crossed the road and Chloe saw a car waiting for someone by the street, right next to the take-out place she was going to visit. Suspicious? Checked.

"So, the car broke, huh?" Chloe said, rolling her eyes.

"Obviously Alfred fixed it," Bruce replied.

"Ah, your beloved butler," Chloe said, this time with a little more warmth in her voice.

"How'd you know?"

"You're not the only one with sources and the ability scheme," she said mysteriously. Bruce raised an eyebrow and Chloe smirked. "I read it in a magazine, you dumbo."

Bruce nearly laughed again. It was not every day that someone called him 'dumbo' without a second thought. Yes, she definitely fascinated him. "Now that we've cleared that up..."

"Indeed," said Chloe, the satisfaction evident in her voice. "Good night, Mister Wayne."

Chloe managed to take a few steps before Bruce's voice made her stop. "Miss Sullivan, what are you doing on Sunday?"


	3. Connections

**Connect****ions**

She was a vision of loveliness. Her head was bowed down, immersed in the book she was reading. She was sitting by the table in the breakfast nook of the manor, her feet up on the opposite chair, poking out from under the other side of the table. The only light was the soft glow that emanated from the 30 Watt lamp on the wall not far above her head.

His fingers ached to touch her, but alas, she maintained her distance. A part of him was slightly frustrated, because no matter how much she denied it, spoken or unspoken, there was a definite attraction between them. On the other hand, he understood her perfectly—emotional investment was the biggest gamble of them all and she was worth much more than a notch on someone's belt. He knew she kept reminding herself of his reputation.

Alfred had also been beside himself, but for a different reason. For a long time now, he had been worried that Batman was taking over Bruce. Not Bruce the persona, but Bruce the man who had found a rather unique outlet for his frustration with injustice. Bruce had always denied it, but it it did not mean he had not noted Alfred's words. Bruce thought of himself as the amalgam of three separate entities: there was the one displayed to the media, another one the man who still had the insecurities of the little boy brought up by Alfred, and the last one had the fears and drive that were Batman. For years now, he had considered the third part to be dominant and knew that the other two had diminished, but had never given it much further thought in spite of Alfred's nudges. Now he had begun wondering if Alfred had a point.

Remembering where he was and that he was royally late and that Chloe had most likely heard him come into the kitchen, he moved slowly across the floor to her, his shoes announcing his presence further.

"Hello, Bruce," she said before casting a glance his way. Bruce came to sit on the chair beside her feet, throwing his suit jacket across its back.

"I didn't think you'd still be here."

"I keep uneven hours anyway," she said, "and I've had a nice time talking to Alfred, reading... and he might have given me a cinnamon bun." She dusted a few stray crumbs to the side of the table.

Bruce just looked at her. He still was not sure what it was that drew him to her. What he did know, though, was that his thoughts of possibly putting her in danger just went flying out the window—she _could_ take care of herself. In passing, she had mentioned, or more likely implied, that she had connections to what she had called superheroes. It had been an innocuous comment unnoted by her, but it intrigued him—just what kind of company had she been keeping? Then again, it would explain her apparent fearlessness when faced with Batman.

As she sent the crumbs rolling across the oak surface, he could not help noting how beautiful she looked. Her clothes were elegant in their simplicity and there was a little silver pendant with a peridot stone suspended in the middle hanging around her neck and her golden hair hung in loose curls above her shoulders. He had never seen her hair curled before, he realized. He wondered where she had been to earlier in the day.

Suddenly, her expression turned more serious and she withdrew her feet which shook Bruce out of his reverie. She leveled her eyes with his and set her arms on the table, the only mark of her nervousness the slight hesitation before she spoke.

"How was it?"

"Fine, the ride back took longer than expected. Sorry about that," Bruce said. And technically, it was true—only he had not been on his way home from a business engagement out of town but shadowing and planting a trap for a bunch of robbers. He had sent Gordon a message to go pick them up to make it back to the Manor at an almost decent time.

"Did you fall asleep against the window or something?" Chloe asked as her hand swiped the hair falling over Bruce's forehead revealing the vague lines left by the cowl from where it had been pressed tightly against his skull.

Touch between them had been infrequent and a luxury as far as Bruce was concerned. Chloe's fingertips graced his skin momentarily before she withdrew her hand. The quick brush had set his nerve endings tingling and he almost reached for her outstretched hand.

"But you didn't, did you?" she added, her voice quieter.

Chloe's fingers itched to reach out again and smooth the few strands of tousled hair she had so candidly dishevelled a moment ago. Sometimes she wondered how good an idea this so-called friendship had been, but in moments like this, she didn't regret it all, despite the conversation they were having. She had fought hard with Bruce and herself to keep the lingering glances and flirting to a minimum, or at least revert from reciprocating. She had kept reminding herself that at the other side of those thoughts and words waited trouble and unavoidable heartache.

Since that Saturday they had shared coffee, she had noticed that ignoring the implications of Bruce's words was the easiest way to carry on. At first she had thought he was putting on the act that thrilled tabloids nation wide, but she couldn't understand why he chose to flirt with her, to almost—dare she say it—court her. And at times she had responded in kind, but lately she had started to add more comfortable distance between them after realizing that Bruce was not only a very nice and engaging man but also unreachable. And now their stagnant relationship was possibly about to get much more complicated.

Bruce's ran a hand over his forehead, the strands of hair resettling over the marks. Sometimes Bruce wished Chloe's eye was less keen, despite his appreciation for it.

Bruce was about to reply when Chloe continued. "I know," was all she said. Bruce arched an eyebrow, but remained silent. "It can't be comfortable, what's it made of?" she asked.

Then it clicked. She _knew_. And she was asking about the suit. He disregarded her question.

"When?" he asked.

Chloe sighed softly, leaning back in her chair and looking out the window.

"For sure? Last night when Batman, _you_, berated me for doing my job."

"You mean putting yourself in unnecessary danger."

The air around them was surprisingly light. Chloe had spent enough time around Clark and the Justice League to not be angry because he had lied to her—it was for a just cause. She was, however, irked that he was trying to shift the negative attention to her. Chloe squinted at him, but decided to let the matter drop, it wasn't the most important matter in hand.

Bruce felt oddly relieved. It had been a long time since he had felt quilty about lying or omitting information because he was Batman. The closest people to him, Alfred and Rachel, had known and now it was only him and Alfred. And Chloe, apparently. Truth be told, he was glad she knew. He was certain that one of the biggest reasons why she avoided him emotionally was that she knew he was keeping a large part of himself hidden and it was something he could not fault her for. If anyone knew of emotional detachment, it was him.

He cleared his throat. "How?"

"Turns out Batman's allergic to hideously expensive perfume as well."

He had told Chloe one of his business associates he had met for dinner had gone too strong on her perfume. Truthfully, his eyes had been irritated by the substance from a lost spray can that had turned into a misty gas as it had been sprayed at Batman two days ago. He'd had red eyes for two days and they were only clearing up now.

"Plus they were _your_ eyes," she said with a smirk firmly planted across her lips.

Instead of making a glib remark about her gazing into his eyes, he stayed quiet for a while and undid his tie and top shirt button—both of which he had put on automatically as he rushed back up from the batcave after changing out of the bat suit. He was surprised by how well Chloe was taking the revelation, even though he knew he probably shouldn't be. He intertwined fingers and lay his arms on the table as if he was the posterboy of casualness.

"So," he drawled. "How do you feel about this, Miss Sullivan?"

Chloe perked up at the playful way in which he addressed her. It had gotten less frequent of late, but now that the cards were laid on the table, the ease of their rapport was returning.

Deciding it was better to take a break from the serious talk for now, she mirrored his pose like she had all those weeks ago at the _Gazette_ and leaned forward until she was mere inches from his face and whispered, "Well, Mister Wayne... I think you owe me a tour of your base of operations, don't you think?"

As her breath danced across his face and her trademark-worthy mischevous smirk adorned hers, Bruce's eyes wandered over her lips and he had to talk himself out of kissing her. Instead, he drew back and offered her his hand.

Chloe looked at his outstretched arm knowing she would accept it. When her hand slipped into his, she felt his grip tighten around her fingers before he drew her up off her seat.

"Come on then."

* * *

So I thought that when Chloe finds out about Batman's identity, it would be less about the fact that Bruce has been hiding it and more about bridging the gap that's been between them. Hence I decided to write it as a very understated scene. I was also going to write much more into the chapter, and did, but all the extra bits seemed just that—extra and trivial. Feel free to disagree on anything, I just wanted to try it like this :)


	4. Cactus

I know it's been forever, but here's another one in case anyone still wants to read these one-off scenes. _The Dark Knight_ back-up batcave makes its debut in this one.

**Cactus**

"Who turned out the lights?" Bruce muttered as the platform descended deeper into the bunker. The computer terminal at the other end of the hall was illuminated by the screens, the fluorescent lights immediately above were glowing, but most of the others were black. The entire back half was dark. It was Chloe's reasoning that since they used up so much energy, they should minimize it as much as they can, despite doing it for the good of the people. While a part of him found it ridiculous, he didn't mind, and at times was willing to admit she had a point. He was pulling on his shirt, his bare feet tapping against the cold floor, and he immediately noted the wool socks Chloe was sporting – a common sight inside the high tech hall. She had only complained once and that had been the first time she had stepped foot into the large room, but had quickly come up with a solution. Why she didn't wear shoes, he had never asked. More comfortable, he supposed.

"You're still here," Bruce stated as he walked towards the computer center.

Chloe glanced spun on her swivel chair to briefly face him. "Who did you think was guiding you through the maze of shipping containers?"

"That was over an hour ago."

Chloe had already returned her gaze to screens and resumed typing. "I'm preparing a mission for Oliver," she said as Bruce appeared in her peripheral vision. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow which didn't go unnoticed. "It's for the day after tomorrow. But tomorrow's kinda full already, so I figured I'd better get it done now."

Bruce sat down on the vacant chair next to her. Different types of data were spread across the multiple screens, the one closest to Chloe under her scrutinizing eye. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and leant back a little more. One of the light panels was flickering ever so lightly.

"You too, huh?" Chloe asked.

"What?"

"Tired," she clarified. "You should go eat something and get some shuteye. Alfred made his fantastic pies, and there are some pasties leftover from yesterday." She grabbed for one she had stashed earlier, lying on a napkin, just within arms reach, and took a bite. "S'really good."

Bruce dragged her chair closer with his foot until it collided with his, snatched the pasty and took a bite.

"Hey!" Chloe protested, and snagged it back. Or what was left of it. "How rude," she said, but didn't manage to sound as offended as she had intended. It was hard to stay mad at him when he looked so adorable with his damp hair pointing in a few dozen different directions. Bruce Wayne might have been Batman, or Batman Bruce Wayne, but sometimes he looked nothing like either of them. She threw a half-convincing glare his way and tried to glide back to her currently most important screen, but Bruce's foot was prohibiting it.

Bruce looked at the clock on one of the screens. "It's 2:09 in the morning," he said nonchalantly.

"And?"

"Time for bed, don't you think?"

"I'm gonna finish this and write back to Lois ‒ I've been meaning to answer her email all day," she replied and moved to her laptop.

"Yeah, that can wait," Bruce said as he closed the lid of her laptop with one swift movement of his hand. "Sleep isn't as overrated as you think."

Chloe didn't know whether to be mad or laugh, she really was tired, but she wasn't going to admit it. "Yeah, yeah."

Knowing she would not be leaving anywhere yet, Bruce ended up by the adjacent console. He busied himself with the never-ending string of files that needed to be read through. He was tired and he wondered how much of the information that he had scrolled through he could retain until dawn.

When the glorious words of "I'm done" reached Bruce, he was more than ready to head out. They waited for the platform to ascend as the last of the lights went dark. Chloe didn't bother stifling a yawn, and her eyes squeezed shut. Five seconds later, the same happened to Bruce. They walked in silence to the elevating level that would take them up.

"So, any chance of getting a plant of some sort to liven up this place?" she asked abruptly.

Bruce squinted at her, half amused, half intrigued. "Slim at best."

Chloe let out a disapproving puff of air. "Even if I were to acquire one myself?" she added. " Think of it as a privately funded investment."

Bruce scratched the side of his ear, looking down at the floor down below, and sighed tiredly. "Only if it is very small, and with your power saving endeavors I'd advice you to get a hardy one. Maybe a cactus."

"Consider it done," Chloe said with a grin, and Bruce could see her start thinking of possible plant candidates.

"Opportunities for photosynthesis will of course be scarce."

"It'll be fine," Chloe assured, "and it'll add color."

Bruce still didn't look convinced. "I would have thought you would have been happy as long as there was enough hardware to power your technological escapades."

"Escapades, really?" she said, giving him a pointed, if amused, look. "And you of all people should know there is always room for improvement."

A tiny smile played in the corner of Bruce's mouth, but he didn't say anything. The moment of silence passed quickly. As they reached the upper level of the bunker, Chloe displayed an impressive spring in her step as they resumed their unhurried pace.

"That was easier than I thought," she said, smiling despite the sleepiness.

"Alfred said I should be more lenient, so I'm giving it a go."

There was a burst of laughter as they rounded a corner.

"I bet he did."


End file.
